


Where Do We Go From Here?

by redfield021767



Series: Finding Their Way Home 'Verse [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-11-28 19:30:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redfield021767/pseuds/redfield021767
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cam and John never met in Atlantis. Instead, they meet when Atlantis is on Earth (for now?) and the Ori have been wiped out. With fewer enemies to fight and the Gate Program shifting it’s primary objectives and agendas, what’s left for aging heroes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And Once We Were Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> Story Notes: 
> 
> • Slight AU. Set Post EatG and TArkOT. 
> 
> • I’m not a writer, and have never written a story before, but I’ve fallen in love with all the Cam/John slash stories I’ve found, and wanted to contribute something back. Hopefully it’s a decent something : )
> 
> • Please give me as many reviews, critiques, hate mail, praises, etc. as you can. I’ll never learn to get better and write you better stories if I don’t hear what I did right/wrong.
> 
> • I own nothing. All credit and inspiration goes back to MGM.

Cam’s walked leisurely to his cherry 1969 mustang parked topside in the SGC lot. The unusually still summer-warm September air felt heavy on Cam’s freshly showered skin. Even in just jeans and a black tee he felt hot, but he couldn’t care less because he was just happy to be back from his last mission.

SG-1 had been off-world on another diplomacy mission to acquire new medical tech from P4X-7793 (the third diplomacy mission this month alone), when the city they were visiting on the planet came under attack from secularist rebels, or whatever the Security Officer had called them. Getting out of the city and back to the gate had proved more complicated than they’d hoped, and they’d been forced to camp on the outskirts of the city before they could make it back to the SGC. No real injuries, just lots of sore muscles, migraines, and lack of sleep that had resulted in Cam feeling like hammered shit by the time they’d made it back and debriefed. Landry had given them 72 hours downtime by the end. Saying he was looking forward to sleeping through all of it was an understatement.

As he approached his car, he fumbled through his pockets for his keys, eventually finding them and taking a moment to just lean against his car door and look out at the setting sun now dimming in the horizon over the parking lot expanse.

Another day down, he thought to himself softy. Another day down, and Earth’s still here. He found himself reminding himself of that fact more and more these days, never sure what he was really trying to reaffirm in himself, but still somehow needing it at the end of the day. A silhouette on one of the lot’s topside lunch benches caught his eye. The man sat with his back to the lot, looking out over the town of Colorado Springs and watching the last of the day’s sun fade into the mountains. Cam watched as the man sat there, elbows on his knees and chin resting on his folded hands, spiky hair blowing gently in the soft wind that was picking up as the day ended. 

Cam didn’t know if it was his damned friendly nature to blame, the way he recognized the slumped defeat in the man’s shoulders, or some horrible combination of the two, but soon realized he was ambling over to the man despite the best protests of his exhausted brain. When he had gotten close enough to no longer be blinded by the setting sun and actually see some definition of the mysterious stranger, he realized that he recognized him as Col. John Sheppard, the returning “Hero of Atlantis” as he’d been referred to by some of the airmen on base. Mitchell had heard that he’d be around on base while the IOA “debated” on what to do with the City of the Ancients floating in San Francisco Harbor. Cam could tell the man had come out here to be alone; no other reasonable reason existed, but something about the way Sheppard looked told him that alone was probably the last thing he needed.

“Hey, Sheppard right?”

John never looked away from the view of the world below, but responded nonetheless before slipping back into contemplative silence. “You found him.”

“I’m, uh, my names Cameron but everyone just calls me Cam.” He offered, attempting to break the silence while internally berating himself for walking over here. When it became apparent that Shepard was content to let the silence draw on, Mitchell added, “I lead SG-1. Kinda surprised we haven’t run into each other yet, but I guess the mountain is a pretty big place. So . . . how’s being back on Earth? Bet it’s got to be nice to be running around on Earth again?” 

Sheppard’s expression flinched for a flash of a second, highlighted from the shadows cast by his tousled hair and the setting sun, and Mitchell couldn’t help but notice. Sheppard turned, finally taking his gaze off the horizon and looked up at Cam. 

“It’s John,” Sheppard drawled slowly, “And between the IOA’s meetings and finding my way out of that labyrinth of a base, can’t say I’ve really made it off-base yet.”

“What? Seriously? Haven’t you been here like two weeks?”

“Almost three, actually.”

Cam paused for a moment and stared at Sheppard incredulously. “That’s dumb”, he finally said.

“What?” Sheppard replied, face and voice both conveying his surprised annoyance at Cam’s assessment.

“That’s dumb. Every IOA meeting I’ve ever had to go to was so horrible that I’m pretty sure the Geneva Convention technically classifies them as “Psychological Warfare”, so three weeks worth has to pretty much have you ready to jump off a cliff. Which is actually kinda convenient, what with this being a mountain and all. Let’s go get a beer.” 

Cam’s instantly cursed himself in his head because, really, what the hell was he thinking?! He was tired, he hurt, he wanted nothing more than to lie in his bed forever and for some reason he couldn’t stop talking. John clearly hadn’t been expecting his apparent new best buddy Cameron to make that offer cause he raised an eyebrow in surprise and amusement.

“I think I’m just going to stay here tonight. You know, low-key.”

“Low-key is what you’ve been doing. Besides, if you don’t go with, then it’ll just look like I have a problem,” Cam drawled right back. “You have to go with, Airmen’s Code or something.” And Cam tried his damnest to put on a convincing smile and crinkle his blue eyes just right. 

“We’re both Officers,” Sheppard retorted, “Not airmen.”

Cam’s smile instantly dropped from his face and was replaced by a look of slightly exasperated annoyance. “You make it extremely hard to be nice to you, you know that?”

Sheppard looked directly at Cam and met his eyes for the first time, and crooked his mouth up into a smirk that Cam couldn’t quite read. 

“Let’s go get a beer.”


	2. First Impressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes: 
> 
> • "OCONUS" means Outside of the CONtinental United States. Basically when military people are stationed outside of North America. 
> 
> • 312 is an urban wheat ale produced in Chicago. The name 312 (pronounced three-one-two) comes from the Chicago area code 312.
> 
> • Un-beta'd, so if there's egregious grammar errors or something, well that's on me.

The ride down the mountain and into town took slightly longer than usual as everyone and their brother were out trying to soak up the last bits of summer air. The fact that it was a Friday night did nothing to help expedite the drive, and Cam and John found themselves sitting in silence at lots of red lights, listening to Johnny Cash play on Cam’s radio. It hadn’t escaped Cam’s notice that John had ignored any of the other artists he’d initially put on while channel surfing, finally looking back from the window to the radio and lightly chuckling out, “Cash, huh? Good taste,” when Cam had finally given up and put in a “Best of …” CD. John stared out at the droves of people walking up and down the streets, dipping into stores for sales on the first wave of winter clothing or sitting on benches waiting for their reservations to be called for what would probably be one of the last nights of the season for patio seating. Cam would occasionally pepper in some generic comments to break the silence, pointing out local landmarks, points of interest or convenient stores should John end up staying in Colorado Springs for an extended period. Cam hadn’t asked yet, but he knew the IOA never made decisions quickly. He knew Sheppard might be here a while.

“So, you got a taste for anything in particular?” Cam asked when they got close to the downtown area.

“Thought you said we’re getting beers?”

“We are, but that’s the crazy thing about earth-side restaurants, they usually sell beer AND food. I know. Shocking.” Cam said through a smile as Sheppard rolled his eyes. “Every time I was OCONUS, the first thing I’d do when I was stateside was get a really large slice of apple pie”. Cam immediately put his hand up to protest whatever smart-ass comment he could already see forming on Sheppard’s lips. He’d gotten sick of the Captain America references when he used to do it with his first unit. That feeling really hadn’t subsided with age. “Still do it when I have a really shitty mission off-world. I’m thinking a two and a half year deployment off-galaxy has to leave you craving something.”

Sheppard’s mouth twisted up into the same smirk again and he raised his eyebrow mischievously before beginning to drawl his response.

“Welllllll . . . . “ he started but Cam cut him off before he could spell out whatever lewd plans he might have been making for himself. 

“Food, Sheppard. Food and beer first, then you can go out and terrorize an unsuspecting populace.”

“Fine, fine.” Sheppard chuckled. “What about that O’Malley’s place up ahead? Looks nice enough.”

“Yeaaahh ok, about that place. All I know is airmen get some awkward stares whenever they go in. I tried asking Carter about it before but she always just gets all huffed up and starts muttering something about pool tables and hustling under her breath before walking out of the room. “

“That’s . . . weird.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Bacon.”

“You’re telling me about bacon?”

“No, I want bacon. Never got it on Atlantis and I always missed that during breakfast. Fried up Tava root just isn’t the same,” Sheppard said with a shrug. 

“Ok, bacon. That’s progress. How about a bacon cheeseburger? I know a place down the road, lots on tap, good burgers, and they always have a game on.”

“Perfect.” Sheppard replied with what Cam could swear was a genuine smile.

Cam continued on down the road to the pub, eventually pulling into the small lot on the side of the building and circled for parking. ‘At least John’s starting to warm up to me”, he tiredly thought to himself, before realizing how ridiculous that sounded. He was tired, hungry, and achy and he was just trying to get the whole inevitable “Team Lead” bonding crap out of the way and suddenly he’s worried what John thinks of him? And when the hell had he just become “John” and not “Sheppard”? Mitchell shook his head and chalked it up to exhaustion before finding a spot and pulling in. 

They walked into the pub and opted for seats right up at the bar. Cam had only been here a few times before but he always enjoyed it. Just popular enough to always have some other customers milling about, but not so busy that he couldn’t get a seat right away. Sheppard was busy taking in the joint, looking around at the Irish décor and dim lighting before settling his eyes on the large variety of beers on tap. 

“Man, you weren’t kidding when you said they have a lot on tap,” Sheppard laughed.

“Told you.”

While Sheppard was still looking at the various taps like a kid in a candy store, the bartender came over and handed them each a menu before taking their drink orders. He returned seconds later carrying a mug of Guinness and a bottle of 312.

“To saving the universe,” Cam said as he clinked his bottle against Sheppard’s mug.

The evening carried on easily enough, much to Cam’s surprise. Sheppard could certainly be guarded and monosyllabic, but Mitchell picked up that if he brought up the right topics, he could really get John talking. Turned out that they had more than a few things in common. Both were football fanatics, and Cam had to agree with Sheppard’s love of “anything that goes faster than 200mph” (although he wasn’t quite sure he could get behind the whole ferris wheel thing). One beer turned into two, and then three as each slowly found themselves being drawn into what stories they could tell publicly. And Cam had to admit that he was just a little bit jealous of all the nukes John had gotten to detonate in his day. It wasn’t until the bar was nearly empty that Cam realized he had no idea what time it was, but that he was almost certainly drunk.

“Wow ok, that went by fast, it’s already 01:15,” he said, looking down at his watch.

“I’m surprised you can even read your watch after how much we’ve been drinking,” John joked, humor evident in his brown eyes. “Wait, 01:15?” he repeated once he realized what Cam had said.

“Yeah, I guess time kinda got away from us. Is that cool? You don’t have meetings or anything in the morning do you?”

“Yeah, the IOA loves early morning meetings on Saturdays, “Sheppard deadpanned. “Nah, the one sure thing you can bet on with bureaucrats is that they love their time off. Nothing short of, say, a damn near full on invasion would convince them to come in on the weekend.” 

Cam laughed in agreement before calling over the bartender to call them a cab.

“Two, actually,” Sheppard said to the bartender.

“You don’t even have any earth money. MONEY! I mean money, just regular plain ol’ money that regular people have,” he managed to slur out to John, only noticing half-way through that he was also talking in front of the bartender before attempting to cover.

“Smooth. I can see why you’re team leader.” Sheppard said through laughter.

“Bite me, Shep. Look, neither of us have enough cash on us for two cabs, I’m way too shitfaced to drive, and no offense, but no ones driving my car. Except me. And not now. Sleep on my couch tonight and I’ll get us back here and to the mountain in the morning, cool?” Cam offered. 

John considered it for a moment before agreeing to Cam’s hospitality. The cab ride back to Cam’s apartment was quick, but still long enough for Cam to doze off during it. When they arrived at the building, John had to nudge Cam’s shoulder to wake him.

“Mmm ugh whzzat? Lemme alone, wanna sleep,” Cam mumbled out the side of his mouth while Sheppard gently pushed his shoulder.

“C’mon Sleeping Beauty, you’re almost there.” John coaxed through a smile.

“Merlin?” Cam said through barely open eyes.

Sheppard scrunched his face, as if trying to put that into some sort of sense before realizing that it was probably better not to ask. 

“You say some weird shit, Mitchell. C’mon, time to go.”

Mitchell slowly got himself up and out of his seat, paying the cab driver before slamming the car door and nearly stumbling over. John managed to catch Cam’s slumping form, despite his own drunkenness, and slung one of Cam’s arms over his shoulder before taking Cam’s keys to the apartment.

“Well this is definitely something other than low-key.” Sheppard muttered good-naturedly. The walk up to Mitchell’s apartment proved less challenging once John managed to find his balance with a stumbling Mitchell at his side. As Sheppard approached Cam’s apartment door, he hesitated just a moment to coax Cam back to the land of the consciously aware and confirm the apartment number. 

“That’s the one,” Cam managed to slur out as he sloppily smiled at his door, thoughts of his impending marathon of sleep racing through his head. 

John unlocked Mitchell’s front door before stumbling into the apartment together. John hadn’t really thought about what Mitchell’s place might look like beforehand, but found himself surprised when he took it all in nonetheless. Clean and orderly like any career military mans, Spartan in its tidiness but without sacrificing a sense of personality. Pictures of what John assumed was Mitchell’s family lay framed along the foyer hallway wall. The apartment was furnished nicely, furniture rich with aged brown leather and dark black wood, masculine and simple. For a single man in his forties, it was surprisingly cohesive. Cam watched as John stood hesitantly in the man’s foyer before remembering his own manners.

“Mi casa is su casa,” Cam said while extending his arms out in an over-exaggerated fashion. “Spare bedrooms down the hallway, bathrooms across from it. Not sure what I got to eat and drink around here but help yourself. Wake me up when you want to go back to the mountain in the morning.” Cam turned to head down the hallway and disappear into his bedroom but Sheppard reached out and caught cam’s wrist briefly, letting go after Cam quickly glanced down at Sheppard’s hand on his wrist and then back up into Sheppard’s eyes.

“Uh, thanks. You know. For getting me out tonight and everything. Hadn’t realized how much I needed that I guess.”

“No problem, I think I needed it too. Definitely good times,” Cam replied, surprised to find himself smilingly slightly upon realizing he meant it. They drunkenly made their way down the hallway to the rooms, Cam only briefly pausing in his doorway to look back at John, toss out a casual “Night, Shep”, before closing his door and falling into his bed, drunkenly thinking of the man in the other room before letting sleep wash over his body.


	3. Something to Believe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • I have lots of plans of where I want to take this story. Hopefully the final product will end up being more of an epic!fic, but I'm a slow writer and have little free time cause of grad school so please bear with the intermittent updates!
> 
> • Yet again, this is unbeta'd, so tell me if there are mistakes.

Late morning sun streamed through the heavy wooden venetian blinds lining Cam’s bedroom window, stretching across the floor and rising up the bed to shine in Mitchell’s eyes when he rolled over. He turned away from the sun, opting to angle himself up slightly to glance at the digital alarm clock resting on his dresser. Through sleep filled eyes he discerned that it was already 11:30, a waking time that he would once have considered embarrassingly late had he not become accustomed to the SGC’s long and somewhat odd hours. Turns out that it’s awfully hard to maintain a regular schedule when off-world planets had the nerve to have rotational periods different from Earth’s and longer or shorter numbers of hours in the day.

Cam pushed himself upright into a sitting position against his headboard, gathering his thoughts and preparing himself for his day. He had some housekeeping errands that had been put off till his next bout of downtime. Laundry, some grocery shopping, answering emails and memos, and oh shit, Sheppard. The lazy post-sleep fog still clouding his mind all at once dissipated in lieu of the realization that Sheppard was probably sitting in his living room waiting for Cam to drive him back to the mountain. He scooted himself up and out of bed before crossing the room to his closet and grabbing a pair of blue AF sweat pants and a gray tee. Cam sighed, briefly glancing at the framed photos atop his dresser. He moved closer, before picking up a photo of his younger brother Caleb’s family. It was an unplanned shot, one taken by their mom on the farm around this time last year. Caleb had been saying something sweet to his wife, Cheryl, in front of the house while their two kids ran circles around them. He’d always like that photo in particular, envious of the balance of life, love, and chaos that his brother had found. Setting the photo back on the dresser, Cam turned and headed towards the hallway to find Sheppard.

“Hey, sorry I slept so late. Guess that mission and those beers really did a number on me,” Cam spoke loudly into the hallway as he padded barefoot down it. He peeked into the guest bedroom and found it empty, bed made nicely with no sign of John. He furrowed his brow in surprise before continuing down the hallway into the kitchen, surprised even more when he found a note instead of John waiting for him.

“Got a car from the SGC to get me. Thanks for the beers, I owe you one,” Cam read aloud as he picked up the note before crumpling it up and tossing it in his trash. Sheppard had done him a favor, really, by making it so he didn’t have to go to the mountain and freeing up more of his day. Yet he couldn’t help feel slightly annoyed at him, which only pissed Cam off more when he couldn’t figure out _why_ it bothered him so much. Pushing the thought out of his mind, Cam turned to start his coffee maker and fetch his SGC issued laptop.

After remotely logging in, he began shifting through his emails, ascertaining which needed his immediate attention and which could wait. Unfortunately, more and more of his time was spent these days shifting through memos and attending meetings that had nothing to do with him. After shifting through some of the older emails that had been neglected during his mission, he came to an internal memo from General Landry and Mr. Woolsey. It was marked urgent, and Cam couldn’t help the knot of apprehension he felt rise in his stomach. He opened it:

_To all SG Team lead Personnel:_

_In light of recent developments, the IOA has held an emergency meeting regarding the nature of the Stargate Program. As such, each SG team leader should report to the SGC for a briefing scheduled for 08:00 Monday morning._

Cam frowned, standing quickly to find his cell phone before hitting one of the speed dials.

“Cam? Hey what’s up?”

“Sam, glad I could get ahold of you. Not interrupting anything am I?

“Nah, Mckay and I were just working on a theory and seeing if the math behind it worked. What’s up?”

“Wait, what? McKay’s at the SGC?”  
“No, Jackson and I had the Prometheus beam us to Atlantis so we could get some side projects done while Atlantis is on Earth. “

“Seriously? Remind me never to accuse you two of not knowing how to have a good time,” Cam replied dryly. “Look Sam, I was calling cause I got some email saying there’s a meeting Monday and that the IOA has some new big rollout to push on us. You got any intel on that so I’m not walking into this thing blind?” Mitchell heard Sam pause for a beat on the other end.

“. . . No one’s told you yet?”

“ . . . Nooo . . .”

Sam sighed deeply on the other end, and it was all Cam needed to hear to know that the news wouldn’t be good.

“Mckay was able to pinpoint a final transmission from the attacking wraith hive. They sent out a broad-spectrum subspace transmission to the Pegasus galaxy with Earth’s location. I’m thinking that it’s a new tactic for them, kind of their way of making sure that even if they die, they’ll be more coming, and maybe we’ll lose in the end. We hadn’t seen it before because they never knew where we were.”

“Great. Their version of one final ‘Fuck you’ directed at us.”

“More or less. Anyway the IOA had a meeting once they found out. Most are staying on Atlantis now while various dignitaries are shown around, so they were able to meet pretty quickly I guess. O’Neill says they were pretty much sequestered most of the night, guess things got pretty heated before they reached consensus.”

“Saaaaaam,” Mitchell started, drawing out Carter’s name to emphasize his impatience. She tended to get this way when she was nervous, rambling on to postpone the bad news as long as possible. Carter seemed to get the hint.

“It’s started, Cam. We’ve started colonizing.”

Cam’s eyes widened. There’d been rumors of the program shifting toward something like this, a directive that had less emphasis on first contact and defense and more on expansion. With the Milky Way lacking a “Big Bad”, funding for the Stargate project was being scrutinized more than ever. Every now and again, Cam would hear talk of starting colonizing efforts, but he always thought they meant later. No real specific later, just . . . later. Cam regained his composure and refocused on Carter, pacing his living room anxiously. “Why now?”

“From what I’m hearing, they want to keep Atlantis earth side, take on the wraith threat as it comes. They figure if the subspace transmission contained the coordinates for Earth, then the Wraith should come straight for us.”

“Which poses a very real threat to the IOA so what better time to make nice exoplanet vacation homes in case we get overrun than now, right?” Cam couldn’t hide the bitter tone in his voice.

“There’s more to it than that, I guess. They’re saying they’re doing it because they need to keep Atlantis here while they figure out how to replace the weapons platform at Area 51. Like it or not, Atlantis is the only orbital weapons platform we have at this point, and if the Wraith do come back, we’ll need it to act as forward planetary defense. They want to rescale the operation. Make the Atlantis base the primary military base while reformatting the SGC to be a primary point of construction for colonizing. Apparently the plan is to start out with establishing farms and factories, things that will help the colony remain somewhat self-sufficient, or as self-sufficient as they can be, that way there’s some established infrastructure for the colonists once they’re there. After that, they want to start building homes and labs for families of researchers to live on while they conduct their research, and expand from there.”

Cam listened in stunned silence on the other end, a million thoughts and questions going through his head.

“Cam?”

“Yeah, I’m here Sam,” Cam said, snapping back to attention. “Look, I gotta go take care of some things. Thanks for the heads up. You and Jackson be safe out there, alright?” Cam listened as Carter told him the same before hanging up. He was seated on the couch in his living room, not quite remembering when he involuntarily went from pacing to sitting, but suspected it was around the time he felt his own anger give way to tired defeat. What happens to him, now? His team? Not waiting to find out, Cam stood up, intent on heading to the mountain and figuring out what was going on, and how it seemed to get out of control so fast.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Cam sat patiently in General Landry’s office waiting his return, eyeing the model airplanes lining the officer’s desk. Walter had assured Cam that the General’s meeting should be finishing up any minute now, but that had been 20 minutes ago. He stared at the General’s recently added model 302 and reached a finger out to reverently glide along the wingtip, feeling himself slowly get lost in his memories. The battle over Antarctica, the accident, watching blood mix with snow and the hazy days glued to a hospital bed that felt like as much a tomb as his cockpit had, taking command of the fabled SG-1 . . .

“Colonel! I hear you have something to discuss with me?”

Cam’s focus snapped back to reality as the General took quick strides into his office before sitting down behind his desk. Cam stood quickly, throwing a picture perfect salute as always before coming to attention.

“Sir.”

Landry eyed the man with that same oddly paternal smile he often gave him. “At ease, son. Now why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind.”

Cam changed his stance but the rigidness of his posture and the tension in his jaw betrayed the nature of it. “Sir, I wanted to ask you about some of the . . . changes being made to our standing orders that I’ve been hearing about.” The General looked up from the paperwork he had started sorting through while listening to Mitchell and sighed.

“Has to happen sooner or later, might as well be done with it I suppose,” he replied. “What do you want to know?”

“Is it true that we’re starting to colonize planets? Like really colonize and not just build little labs or fallback bases?

“Effective at the start of the next budget cycle, yes. The SGC will primarily focus on colonizing promising worlds with the hopes of expansion, at least that’s what they tell me.”

“What happens to my team? Are we just supposed to go from saving the galaxy to being security guards at a construction site?” The sentence ended with a tone that had slightly too much panic and anger in it, even to Cam’s own ears. Landry narrowed his eyes and glared slightly, reminding Cam where he was and whom he was talking to.

“Obviously we’re not going to be using your team for that. Aside from the fact that that would be a ridiculous waste of resources, I don’t really see Col. Carter, Vala, or the Doctor staying in one place for more than 5 minutes.” Cam let out a small sigh and let some of the tension drain from his body, knowing still that the other foot had yet to drop. “The official decision was to retire SG-1, with the majority of the team going to Atlantis in a research and consultant capacity more than likely.”

“Majority?” Cam said, apprehensively.

“Well there’s a decent chance that Teal’c might not want to go. He is needed more and more these days to help lead the Jaffa.” Cam looked at the floor and nodded, understandingly. “And they haven’t decided what to do with you yet.”

Cam looked up at the General, confusion and concern lining his face. “What exactly does that mean, Sir?” he asked slowly.

“Tell you the truth, I don’t know. Could mean someone higher up has a plan for you, could mean they plan to offer you a choice on postings, could mean they just have no idea, son. You’ll just have to wait and see. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get through these reports or Walter going to start doing that thing where he just sighs and shakes his head every time he comes in here to bring me more.”

“Of course. Thank you, General.” Cam stood and turned to leave, not sure where he was headed. All of this seemed like so much to process. He didn’t regret taking this posting, couldn’t imagine what not knowing the things he knows and doing the things he does would be like.

But…

Every time it felt like he was getting the hang of all of this crazy interplanetary galaxy-saving space adventuring, everything had to go and change and he’d be right back at square one, and now it was about to happen again. He turned down a corridor, intent on heading to the elevator. He needed to get topside, to get in his AF sweats and go to the forest paths by his apartment and just run. His body hummed with anxious energy that felt like electricity beneath his skin. As he hit the button for the parking garage, he heard the klaxons begin to blare.

_Well shit._


	4. First Fires

Cam came skidding to a halt inside the control room to find General Landry and Sheppard already there, the latter no doubt from habit more than anything. John looked up briefly and caught Mitchell’s eye’s, small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he did a head nod in Cameron’s direction. Cameron returned the gesture with a smile of his own before joining the General. “What happened?”

“Unscheduled off-world activation from SG-6. They opened a radio channel but there was only a few seconds of gunfire and explosions before the channel cut out”, Walter explained.

“Send a MALP through, I want to know what went wrong. Colonel, suit up and stand-by with SG-9 and 12. I want you suited up and ready if this turns into a search and rescue”, General Landry said loudly. The gate room technicians began scurrying hurriedly, making the preparations for sending the MALP through the gate while Sheppard and Mitchell let out a “Sir” in unison before turning to look at each other slightly confused.

“I meant Col. Mitchell, Sheppard, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have you both there. Sheppard, suit up with SG-12 and Mitchell will take SG-9. You have your orders”, and with that, they both took off bounding down the aluminum stairs to the armory.   
  
Sheppard walked briskly next to Cam, and he couldn’t help but notice the intensity that could flow off the man. Everything about Sheppard the night before had screamed non-regulation, the uncoordinated but perfect bed-head, the way he sauntered instead of walked, even the way he always had to rest his weight on one leg and lean back slightly like he was Han Fucking Solo. This was different though. He still sauntered, strolling through the armory while gearing up and exuding the same cocky gravitas from before, something Cam was beginning to think had less to do with anything military and more to do with Sheppard’s hot-shot pilot mentality. His eye were focused, sharp with detail and attention, and Cam could see the muscles under John’s BDU’s stay tense. Sheppard might think he hid his concern behind the relaxed attitude and the lazy drawl but Cam was having no problem seeing through it.

“What?”

Cam refocused his attention to John. “Hmm?”

“You were just staring at me funny. And not like ‘Groundhogs Day’ funny, like ‘if this was a cartoon, you would have seen me as a steak or turkey leg’ funny. I know the food in the mess isn’t great, but . . . “

Cam let out a short laugh. “Naw, just thinking bout how this is the first time the leaders of SG-1 and SGA-1 are on a mission together. Seems momentous in some way. Like maybe there should be cake.”  
  
“Cam, you’re being ridiculous. There should always be cake”, John replied seriously before breaking into a smirk. “C’mon, we should move.”

The embarkation room was abuzz with technicians and marines, and the added presence of SG-9 and 12 was making things more than a little crowded. Cam looked over at John as they made their way through the crowd up towards the ramp, absentmindedly bumping into each other every few steps. Cam could swear Sheppard’s hand brushed against his so many times that it had to be on purpose, but he instead turned his attention to the waiting General in the control room. From midway up the ramp, Cam and John stood awaiting the word from Landry while Walter began the dialing sequence.

“Aerial reconnaissance shows signs of a gunfight, but no hostiles in the immediate area. I want you establish a perimeter and tell me what happened. Bring our men home, Colonels. You have a go.”

“Alright you heard the General”, Cam bellowed. “SG-9, you’ll be with me, 12 is with Col. Sheppard. We secure the gate first and spread out from there. Let’s get a move on people. “

The stargate exploded to life behind Mitchell with the familiar KAWHOOSH that he had grown so accustomed yet mesmerized by. He turned and started leading his team up the ramp, not hesitating to step through the chilling brilliant pool of the event horizon.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three days later, SG-9, 6, and 12 all came back through the gate in one piece, more or less. Both Cam and John had been off world during their scheduled Monday morning meetings with the IOA and the SG Command staff about colonization, and had instead been filled in with dossiers. Cam had given it a quick once through and found nothing new from what he’d been told by Carter and Landry. John, on the other hand, clearly had been in the dark about the new standing orders. He had made some off the cuff remark and set the papers down but his whole demeanor had changed, stiffened. His muscles were visibly tense under his clothes, and his eyes seemed a little more distant.

 The debriefing was tedious, to say the least. Cam had been ordered to give his report in lieu of Col. Markham from SG-6, who was laying unconscious in the med bay.

“So the townspeople got upset when they saw some of their ancient gizmos went missing?” General Landry queried, eyes intent on Mitchell as he folded his hands on the conference room table, awaiting his reply.

Mitchell’s attention snapped back to the General. “Yes, it appears that the locals got themselves all worked up when they had seen that Dr. Kozeny had taken some of their artifacts. Apparently they’re incredibly sacred, tied into their religion, same rhetoric as always, etc.”  
  
“And the firefight?”

“Was their way of taking the team into custody. They intended to try the entire team for the crime.”

“Well that doesn’t seem fair.”

“The jury didn’t seem too impartial either, Sir.” Cam replied. “The team had been pretty badly beaten by the time we arrived. Col. Markham had taken the brunt of it. We were able to overrun the compound holding them and extract them, albeit with some complications.”

“Naturally. Anything else of note, son?”

“No, Sir. That covers it all.”  
  
“Alright, good job everyone. I’ll have Dr. Lam inform you when Col. Markham’s condition changes. Dismissed. “ And with the General’s word everyone got up to leave. Cam didn’t bother to wait for anyone, didn’t want to talk. He about faced from the conference room table and made a bee-line for the door, but saw Sheppard get up and make a motion towards him from the corner of his eye. John’s path had gotten blocked momentarily by other team members milling about in the conference room, and Cam had already nearly made it to the end of the hall by the time he came skidding to a halt beside him.

“Hey, wait up. Wanted to see if you wanna get a bite to eat in a little bit?”

“We just spent three days together, you really want to hang out more?” Cam spat hastily without thinking. Sheppard tensed and Cam instantly regretted sounding like such an asshole, knowing that he was out of line. Cam furrowed his brow and swallowed hard. “Maybe”. Sheppard nodded uninterestedly, probably trying to ignore Cam’s awkward outburst, and continued walking alongside Cam towards the SGC locker rooms.

Cam half stumbled-half slammed his way through the locker room door, and headed straight for his locker. Sheppard walked by, and passed the man in silence.  Cam noticed the tension in the air, and had to admit he felt like a bit of a jerk, but it’d been a hell of a long day and he was getting to the end of his rope. Knowing his mama would whoop him good though if she knew he was letting things settle this way between them, he finished pulling his shirt over his head and turned to break the silence with Sheppard.

“Look…” he started as he turned to face Sheppard, but the words died on his lips as he saw the man slowly changing out of his BDU’s. John’s defined arms tensed and stretched as he pulled his shirt off over his spiky haired head, revealing a broad chest and strong, defined shoulders. He had a lean build to him that exuded strength, like a cross between a swimmer and a runner but with more muscle. Cameron watched as Sheppard dropped trou, and Cam could feel as his ears burned bright pink and his face flushed from embarrassment. He turned quickly, trying to hide his face before John could see and managed to deftly knock the locker with his forehead loudly. The sound of the commotion got John to turn his attention to Cam, who had resolved to rest his head against the side of the locker door and mutter things better left unheard under his breath.

Cam looked over to see Sheppard wearing nothing but a grin as he picked up his towel and drew it around his waist. “Nice one, Mitchell” he said, before turning the corner into the showers. Cam just stared where John had been for a moment, trying to replay what had just happened in his head and deciding if he needed to over-analyze this or not. The gnawing sense of fatigue at the back of his brain and the sore ache in his muscles won out first, however, and he pushed it from his mind and finished undressing. He wrapped his towel around himself and headed for the shower room.  
  
Sheppard and Mitchell were alone, the majority of their other team members having showered during the debrief or were still getting post-mission physicals. Sheppard stood closed-eyed under one of the shower heads on the far end, back to the wall as a steady jet of hot water ran down him. Cam removed his towel and hung it up on the wall, and took a showerhead two spots down from Sheppard. Mitchell turned the knob before closing his own eyes and leaned forward to rest his arms and head against the wall. The steady stream of hot water soothed the ache running through his bones. He didn’t have to think about his failing job, or his shitty life, or the man next to him who’s really made these last few days kinda weird in a good way. Seconds or minutes rolled by, Cam couldn’t really tell, and suddenly the sound of the showers cut from two to one. Sheppard walked by Cam and grabbed his towel off the wall. 

“It’s just been a shitty day.” Cam said, eyes still closed under the water.

“I get that.” Silence followed Sheppard’s comment and Cam needn’t have his eyes open to tell that John was watching him and waiting for some follow up. When none came, he turned and went back to his locker. Cam shut the water off and grabbed his tower quickly.

“Beer.” Cam blurted out loud as he wrapped his towel around himself and walked back towards the lockers, water still dripping down his hair and into his eyes. “After today, I want beer and pizza, whadya say to that?”

“Thought you were feeling too cranky? John joked as he raised his eyebrow.

“No, if I was feeling too cranky then I’d keep all the beer and pizza to myself. This is me feeling generous.” He drawled through his smile and mentally patted himself on the back for that one.

“Generous!?” John laughed out incredulously. “Well, it’d be awfully rude of me to turn down the generosity of the Great Colonel Cameron Mitchell. How could I refuse?” Cam rolled his eyes, finished changing, and tossed John the keys.

“C’mon, smartass.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The elevator doors opened and Cam strode casually out of it, pizza balanced carefully on one hand and a 12-pack in the other. Sheppard followed his lead down the long hall and paused in front of Mitchell’s door when Cam continued right by it.

“Isn’t this one yours?” He asked, pointing back at Cam’s apartment.

“Yeah, but we’re not eating there.” Cam turned back and replied. “It’s not too bad out, figured we could eat on the roof. There’s a stairwell at the end of the hall.” Cam turned and continued. Sheppard followed as they made their way through the hallway and up the staircase to what turned out to be a surprisingly nice rooftop patio. The area was large, with plenty of open space and a small patio furniture setup nearby. On the other end, makeshift garden plots had been assembled, the plants in them healthy and obviously well-cared for.

“This . . . is way nicer than I was expecting.” John half-joked.

Cam smiled and set the pizza and beer down on the patio table. “Yeah, it’s a bit nicer than most expect, but I think it’s kinda cool. The people in the building are pretty close, and I think they like the sense of community this gives them.” He nodded in the direction of the garden plots as he sat down and added, “They even make sure they don’t double grow the same veggies. They just coordinate and trade. You have no idea how many casseroles I get every season.”

“Got a bunch of old ladies doting on you, huh?” Sheppard asked as he sat down and grabbed a piece of pizza.

“Not really. I built the garden plots for them when I overheard them talking about it in the hall one day.” Cam cracked open two beers and handed one to Sheppard.

“Of course you did.” He chuckled and accepted the beer, taking a swig.

They sat there in companionable silence, eating pizza and drinking beer and watching as the sun colored the sky in hues of pinks and oranges. Mountain ranges flickered with color like dwindling flames as the setting sun sank ever deeper behind them, and had long been gone by the time either one of them spoke again.

“I hate this.” Cam said, first to break the silence as he set his beer bottle on the table.

“Didn’t have to invite me over.” Sheppard replied half-jokingly.

“That’s not what I meant.” Cam turned his head to look over at Sheppard.

“Yeah.” Sheppard replied as he tilted his neck back and looked up at a now foreign sky. “I know.”

Cam watched Sheppard for another moment before getting up, heading to the stairwell door, and disappearing inside. Minutes later he reappeared carrying a Nerf football in his hand, and threw it at Sheppard’s head. He watched at it bounced off him and onto the rooftop, before standing up to grab the ball and look at Mitchell.

“You just had a Nerf football laying around your apartment?”

“Do you not?” Mitchell asked, straight-faced before breaking into a childish grin. Sheppard smirked and threw the ball back to Cam. Cam caught it deftly and lobbed it back to Sheppard. After a few minutes of the back and forth, Cam spoke. “They’re dismantling SG-1. Retiring the designation.” Cam said, eyes on the ball as it cut through the air. 

“I know”, was all John replied. They continued to throw the ball. “They’re keeping Atlantis here indefinitely.” John said, several minutes later. Cam looked over at Sheppard instead of the ball for the first time since they had started this game and saw, for the barest of a second, a real sadness in Sheppard’s eyes before he blinked it away. Deciding against continuing the issue, Cam opted for a lighter topic.

“So what’s your story? You seeing anyone on Atlantis or just rely on your steady stream of Kirk-ing to get by?” Cam joked through a grin.

“I always thought of myself as more the James Bond type.”

Cam laughed and threw the ball. “You really think you have the suave for that?” John caught the ball and looked mock offended.

“I’ll have you know I can be plenty suave. What about you? I bet you got some cute little all-American girl waiting for you when you’re done saving the world after a long day.”

“Yeah, not so much. Tried that before, but this job comes with too many secrets to really have anyone waiting for you. Hard to pull off the excuse ‘ _sorry honey, something came up at work_ ’ when you get sent off-world for an emergency for a week.”

“And Sam is . . . ?” John raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“A really good sister-friend kinda person. Besides, I’m not even in her league. Hell, I’m pretty sure the only reason I’ve been on the team this long is cause I’m really good at getting beat up by the bad guy while they go do whatever they have to do to save the day.” Cam smiled. “But I’m OK with that. Gets me lots of macaroons when I’m laid up in traction.” He threw the football back at Sheppard. This was nice, Cam had to admit. Standing around and throwing the ball back and forth between them gave him enough movement so that he didn’t feel awkward standing around and concentrating on the football was giving them both enough half-focus to allow the conversation to move smoothly, less guarded.

“You know, I don’t think I ever had a macaroon before….”Sheppard replied, thoughtfully before returning the ball. They continued playing catch back and forth, losing track of time well into the night and chatting about the little things that they could, the small reminders of what they might have outside of the job. After what seemed like hours, Cam caught the ball one last time and sat himself down with his back up along the stairwell’s exterior wall.  He looked out at the horizon, noticing the faintest glimmer of light threatening to crack across the sky. Sheppard came over and sat down next to him, shoulder slightly bumping up against Cams'.

“Lost track of time, again.”

“I like that, though.” Cameron replied. “Letting myself spend time on something I want for once.” Sheppard looked over at Cam like he was studying him.

“This is really getting to you, huh?” Sheppard asked. Cam was silent for a moment.

“I fought through months of physical therapy, worked so hard for this post and have almost sacrificed everything for it, for everyone.” He said, still focused on the soon-to-break morning dawn. “Now they just take it away, and I’m really not sure where that leaves me.” Sheppard looked at him a second longer, and turned to seemingly focus on the same point on the horizon that had Cam so involved.

“Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.” John intoned softly under his breath. Cam scrunched his brow, both in confusion of Sheppard’s insightfulness and at the aptness of the phrase.

“What’s that from?” Cam asked.

“Prep school. It’s a quote of DaVinci’s. I used to say it to myself over and over to remind myself that I had the academy to go to after I graduated. I guess in your case it’s interplanetary exploration and not flight, but the sentiment seems the same. You can’t always be up in the sky. You have to find something to do when you’re not, even if that’s where you’d rather be.” Cam nodded thoughtfully and Sheppard bumped his shoulder into Mitchell’s again, offering support.

“C’mon.” Mitchell said, standing. “I think I’m gonna try to get some sleep for a bit. Crash in the guest room?” Cameron offered his outstretched hand to John. John accepted, and was pulled to his feet.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“Consider it a standing offer.”

They turned to gather up their mess left throughout the night, headed back inside and down the stairs towards Cam’s apartment, and drifted off to sleep.


End file.
